Chapter 32
32
‘It’s impossible to live with him!’ Aisha baji cried in Urdu.
‘Calm down! Stop crying.’ This was Mum’s pathetic and typical attempt at comforting her. It seemed my family’s motto was: never express emotion even if your world is falling apart .
I tiptoed closer to the living room to eavesdrop, my chest tight with fear.
Dad’s trainers lay outside the door, which meant this conversation was taking place in his presence. Although Aisha baji had previously opened up to Mum about her situation, she’d never mentioned her marital problems to Dad directly. He still knew plenty about what she was going through because Mum confided in him, but he’d done little more than tell Mum to pass word back to Aisha to be a better wife, to work harder to keep her husband happy.
‘Allah tests everyone. This is your test!’ Mum exclaimed.
Rage sparked its way through my nerves. I hated the way my parents corrupted our religion and twisted it into whatever suited them. The truth was they wanted their daughter to continue suffering so they wouldn’t have to suffer the whispers of the local community about the shame of a divorced daughter or the damage it would do to their family relations in Pakistan.
‘Listen, beti,’ Dad said solemnly. ‘You have two children together now. You need to think about what’s best for them.’
‘That’s exactly what I’m doing,’ Aisha baji whimpered. ‘He’s so aggressive towards me around the children. He’s always swearing and shouting. They’re getting older now, and they understand much more. I don’t want them to grow up thinking these things are OK.’
‘I’ll talk to Javed soon,’ Dad replied dismissively. ‘It’s time for me to go to work now. You should go home.’
I saw red. After the beautiful day I’d just had in Karim’s presence, I’d forgotten the reality of the home life I was going back to. Years of hatred and despair eddied inside me as I barged into the room.
‘Go home?’ I screeched in Urdu. ‘Even after you know what she’s going home to? And what are you going to call Javed over for? Biscuits and tea? All while you pat him on the back and discuss the morning’s Pakistani news? If one thing’s clear by now, it’s that you’re too spineless to stand up for your own daughter in front of that filthy man you proudly call your son-in-law.’
Everyone was standing now, and they looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. Saniya and Abbas stopped playing with their toys and stared up at their loud, angry aunty. A wave of guilt enveloped me; I didn’t want them to witness yet another fight.
‘Stop it, Zara,’ Mum hissed, and I detected fear in her eyes; she didn’t want me to rile Dad. ‘Is this how you speak to your father?’
‘It’s the truth,’ I hissed back. ‘And my religion teaches me to stand up for truth and justice.’
That shut them right up.
I scoffed. ‘I don’t know what you’ve been learning but it definitely isn’t Islam if you think it’s OK to sit back and watch your daughter’s husband beat her up and ruin her life.’
‘Please be quiet, Zara,’ Aisha baji cried. ‘You’re only making things worse.’
‘Oh, so you do have a voice,’ I said sarcastically. ‘Why don’t you raise it for once?’
‘Just stop it ,’ she sobbed.
My own eyes welled, and my voice cracked with sadness as I said, ‘Tell Mum and Dad that they married you off to a scoundrel and don’t have enough interest or backbone to help you now that you and your children are suffering.’
‘Oi!’ Dad roared, making everyone jump, then he pointed a finger straight at Mum. ‘Look at how disrespectful you’ve raised your daughter to be! Look at the shameless way she’s dressed!’
My clothing had nothing to do with any of this. I felt the urge to scream.
All the bitterness I’d ever felt towards Dad wrapped around my tongue and came out in a venomous question. ‘You’re always going to find a way to blame a woman, aren’t you?’
‘Living under my roof,’ he barked, eyes popping, ‘and this is how you talk to me?’
Mum glared at me wildly, signalling to me to shut up, but I was done with walking on eggshells around the truth, with seeing her bending to Dad’s will at every turn instead of saying and doing what she wanted. I wouldn’t be controlled by my family in that way any longer.
‘Why do you always divert the topic? Answer the real questions here. Why aren’t you helping your daughter out of an abusive marriage? Why can’t she just stay here with us? Are you so worried about what your relatives will say that you can’t even help your own daughter and grandchildren?’
He bellowed again and raced towards me with a hand raised.
I froze, my entire body trembling with fear.
Aisha baji held on to his arm at the last second, shielding me from his wrath. ‘Just leave, Zara!’ she cried.
I shook my head. ‘I don’t want to leave you alone.’
‘I’ve told you not to come here to discuss your problems, Aisha,’ Mum snapped. ‘This is the result when daughters come back to their father’s home after getting married. Go back to your own home and we’ll come to see you and Javed soon.’
Dad huffed loudly and left the room. Instantly, all of us could breathe easier.
‘Don’t bother,’ Aisha baji replied quietly.
I’d just said everything to our parents that she didn’t have the courage to say herself, and she’d just witnessed that it had made no difference at all. She packed Abbas and Saniya’s toys and left with them. My heart ached for them.
‘I’m going to have words with you about how you’re dressed,’ Mum spat at me. ‘The nerve of you to go out like that. Is this how we raised you? What will people say about our daughter’s character?’
‘That’s right, Mum,’ I replied coldly. ‘Care more about what people say than about the truth of what’s going on in your life. It’s done you a lot of good so far, hasn’t it? Estranged son. Abused daughter. Another daughter who probably has a similar kismet in store.’
‘Be quiet, you disrespectful girl!’
There was a mixture of irritation and fear on her face; she was worried about the kind of trouble my sharp tongue and reckless honesty would get me into. I wished she could see that silence and obedience clearly got a woman into enough trouble too.
I ran upstairs, wrapped myself in my duvet and cried until I had no more energy to give. I stared into space blankly, feeling empty and broken. After a while I called Saliha.
We were on FaceTime for hours.
Karim tried to call me, but I ignored him. I just needed my best friend right now. I couldn’t confide in Karim about how embarrassingly awful things were at home; his family was so picture-perfect.
I told Saliha everything. After listening, she attempted to distract me with funny stories of the guys who slid into her DMs, but nothing could lift this dark weight.
Today was the first time Dad had heard me truly express myself, but instead of hearing the pain and sorrow in my voice, he’d only heard disobedience. Whether I obeyed his rules or not, I knew I’d never be good enough for him, and maybe that was because I was a girl. If I’d learned anything from Mum’s scolding and gossiping over the years, it was that girls were regarded as a burden: their body, behaviour and future were too unreliable, always laced in hardship and shame.
Daughters were difficult to raise, difficult to give away, difficult to take back.
It made me want to disappear.
‘Zara?’ Sal prodded, pulling me from my thoughts. ‘Where are you lost?’
‘Nowhere.’
‘Come on, it’ll be OK,’ she said softly, her forehead creased with worry. ‘Are you sure I can’t come over?’
I shook my head.
‘And you can’t come over here either?’
‘No, if I step out the house right now, I feel like my parents will tell me never to come back. If only I had someplace to go, I would leave myself.’
‘You can just stay here,’ she offered.
I gave her a half-smile. ‘You know I can’t do that. Your parents have enough children to deal with as it is.’ I sighed. ‘Karim invited me to the iconic Exes Halloween party tomorrow night. Shall I just do it? Sneak out and go to see his world? You’re the one who told me to make memories this year, right?’
‘Oh, Zara. Maybe not the kind of memories that could get you into serious trouble.’
I opened my mouth to argue but she cut in, ‘It’s been a stressful evening already. If you still want to do this Halloween thing tomorrow, I promise I’ll help you come up with a plan. But for now, you need some rest.’
‘OK,’ I whispered, my heart already set on what I wanted.
When we got off the phone, I finally texted Karim back.
I don’t want to spend my whole life afraid of living. And this seems like the perfect time to make a change – tomorrow I step into your world.